Stand Against The Tide
by Black Lothlorien
Summary: Aragorn needs Legolas' help to save Gimli from his own stupidity in the Mines of Moria. Unfortunately, Thranduil refuses to allow his son to enter the Deep. Will Legolas go against his father to save someone who his father doesn't even consider a friend?
1. Runaway Rebel

Legolas sat in the crook of the tree, a switch of wood and small knife in his hands. He whittled away at the once-thick stick, eventually snapping it in half. His strength as an elf was well known to him, but it bothered him that the stick always broke before he was done venting his energy.

He leaned back, sighing. His back rested against the solid trunk of the tree, the rough bark pressing hard through the simple green-grey tunic he wore.

The view from up here was amazing. It showed him the expanse of Mirkwood, the fog of the morning stretching out seemingly forever. The only things that moved were the silver highlights that glittered in the mist.

The 'young' elf had returned to his home only last night, and already he was dreaming and wishing for another adventure. Upon arrival, he had immediately shed his traveling clothes for the plain tunic and grey pants. He wore sandals on his feet instead of his faithful boots.

A familiar voice broke through the mists, and Legolas immediately recognized it as Aragorn's humming. What was the king doing here? The sound of horse hooves, many of them, resonated through the trees.

The elf stood on the branch and tucked in his shirt. Quickly, he dropped down through the mist, landing silently on the ground.

He had touched ground just behind Aragorn's escort. One of the rear guards saw him out of the corner of his eye and spun, releasing a startled cry. Legolas held out his hands to calm the horse.

"Legolas, why do you pounce on us so?" The dark haired king sighed, riding up to his friend. Aragorn wore no armor, but a cleaner version of his black ranger clothing. The black still accented his face, though it brought worry to light.

"What has happened?" Legolas asked bluntly.

One of the guards was going to protest his straightforward words, as he used no excessive courtesy, even though Aragorn was royalty now, but the king chuckled weakly.

"Gimli has been captured by the Moria orcs, along with many of his associates," Aragorn spoke of a fateful visit to Moria that had resulted in the dwarves' ambush and seizure, "We have need of an elf with the knowledge of the deep areas of Khazad-Dûm."

Legolas looked passively at the king, allowing no emotion to show on his face. Gimli was a friend, yes, as was Aragorn.

The elf nodded, "I will go with you."

"Good. Come, we ride to your father's table," Aragorn offered his hand to his friend, as to give him a ride, but Legolas shied away slightly. Instead of riding, the elf walked beside him, his sandals utterly silent on the forest trail.

"I have missed the old adventure," Aragorn said as they walked and rode through the fog.

"The Great Road goes on, my friend, and I long to tread it once again as well," Legolas sighed slightly. 

He remembered that Gimli had returned to Moria with a large contingent of dwarves from all over the whole of Middle-earth. They had been able to retake the upper halls from the Orcs, and were working to reclaim the whole of Moria.

Legolas assumed that they had to rebuild the bridge of Khazad-Dûm before they were able to do much, plus the large stair that had been destroyed as well.

_Why would Gimli return to Moria? Did he not say himself that the __Glittering__Caves__ would be a more precious prize? Legolas pondered many things, so many, that he began to block out the conversations around him._

"Master Elf, may I ask you a question?" One of Aragorn's escorts interrupted his deeper than normal thought.

"Yes, you may," He looked up at the young man on the horse.

"What was it like in the deep of Moria? For you, as an elf," This young man was dressed more as a bard than a warrior or a guard, and he held a small, leather-bound book in his hands, along with a small jar of ink and a short quill.

"It was a horror that I would not touch again in my life, if a choice I were given," That was all Legolas would say.

Aragorn could see that Legolas was troubled. He had not expected a response so quickly, and Legolas was not known for hasty choices.

The elf never stumbled, nor did his eyes waver from the mist ahead. The young king, astride on his horse, feared the worst from the early morning fog.

A thought suddenly struck him. _What was Legolas doing in that tree?_

The home of Thranduil opened out of the mist before them. Thranduil himself stood by the door, as if waiting for them. As the humans dismounted, Legolas approached and was immediately handed a long sleeved robe for over his clothing.

Aragorn bowed before the Elf-King of Mirkwood and was immediately ushered into the large main room. Inside, there was a healthy fire burning in the hearth.

"I know why you have come, Aragorn, and for the safety of my son, I must refuse," Thranduil stated as he walked up to the head of the large table that stood lengthwise to the fireplace, "I have heard many stories of the horrors of that place, and I have seen them as well."

"A friend is in dire need, Lord Thranduil, and Legolas knows the deep of Moria," Aragorn winced. He was not supposed to speak of the times, at night, when Legolas had disappeared into the darkness, exploring.

"I also know of the foolish nights he spent searching that wretched place," Thranduil leaned on the table with his fists, "Moria is known to no elf more than my son. A map, he has made, and a map he shall give you. Nothing more."

A few more minutes of entreating, punctuated by glances at Legolas' quiet, unmoving frame, Aragorn gave up. This elf was as unmovable as the pillars of Dwarrowdelf themselves.

He sighed in defeat, "I will abide by your decision, Lord Thranduil."

"Good. Enough of this foolishness," Thranduil nodded and turned to his attendants, "See to their horses, and make sure that they have good food and water."

Aragorn thought quickly, "The ride to Minas Tirith is long, and then to Moria, 'tis longer still. I ask only that we be allowed to stay here until dawn's light tomorrow."

"I am not a tyrant, Aragorn, King of Gondor," The Elf-King held no warming smile, "You are welcome in my house for as long as I myself dwell here. Take rest here, with us, in this home, but I will hear no more of this expedition, for you or my son."

The young bard, who had introduced himself as Corgan, slipped his cowl back quickly, nervously. His hair was fair, but more yellow than blonde, like the elves, but it held almost the same length.

Aragorn could have sworn that he saw a high collar of armor hidden under the lively dark blue of his tunic, but a shrug by the young bard blocked his sight.

"Thank you, Elf-King," Aragorn, slightly angered by what had just transpired, left the room. He stood in the outer hall, watching the morning mist lift as his men, led by elven guides, were accompanied to their places of choice.

"I will not argue my father's word in front of a human or elf," Legolas said emotionlessly as he joined his friend by the door. His over-robe was light green, but had enough grey to make it seem as if he could melt into the wall.

"Then you will not come," Aragorn clenched his teeth, "Gimli could be dying and we would have no recourse but to rely on a map. We have no hope, for elvish ears and elvish eyes would be invaluable in the deep."

Legolas said nothing. Aragorn realized that he had disappeared.

"Probably for the best," He resolved to catch the Elf-King and his son alone, so as to force Legolas to speak his mind. Surely the King would listen to his own son…

"You have been unusually silent since your return, my son," Thranduil stood in Legolas' chambers as his son dug through the chest at the foot of his sleep couch, looking for the map-book he had drawn. It was largely incomplete, chronicling only what he had seen and had been fortunate enough to find in books.

"Aye, father, I am troubled, for the dwarf had been a friend through the war, and is a great warrior," He slipped the large book of parchment out and closed the trunk.

"He is naught but a dwarf," Thranduil pressed against the bridge of his nose, "I see not why you worry about him so."

"Father, he has been a close friend. I know that this friendship is strange, but this dwarf has been the elves' one chance to rebuild the torn alliance between the them and the dwarves," He opened the map-book out on his sleep couch.

"If I find you not in this room tomorrow night, there will be hell to pay," The king swore.

His son merely smiled, "If I am not in this room, then into hell will I be going."

Thranduil watched his son close the map and slip silently out of the room. A close eye would need to be held on the elven prince, for he was known for his silence and dexterity.

"I worry for you, son, though I should not," He shook his head and moved to leave the room, "If death comes for you, I pray that Adunólae will not suffer the death of grief."

As if being summoned, there was a knock on the door and an elven woman looked in.

"Ah, my lord," She curtsied, "Where is Legolas? We were to meet, but the King of Gondor came. He is with him, then, my king?"

"Aye, Adunólae, he is," Thranduil smiled at his soon-to-be daughter-in-law, "Though I know no when he shall be available."

"I know his mind, my lord," She smiled slightly, readjusting the wreath of silver that was braided into her light blonde hair, "He will return when he is ready. Until then, I shall wait with his face in my eyes."

Thranduil knew that Legolas and Adunólae were in love since the first day they had met so long ago. He also knew that Legolas could love no other, and would be faithful, past the day of his crossing through the Grey Havens.

He also knew that she would die of grief should his son be slain by orcs. Or she would die by the orcish hand that killed her love.

"Is something wrong, my lord?" She tipped her head to the side. She was pretty, but her beauty was not of renown. _What should happen to her if my son is killed…?_

"There is, but it is my own to know," He smiled at her, "Go, and walk the garden. The blue roses from Lothlórien have gone to bloom."

"Thank you, king-father," She ducked out with a smile and a quick curtsy. Her strong area was not flowers, but loyalty, to the death and beyond. 

Thranduil looked around the room one more time, then walked out slowly.

Legolas gave the map to Aragorn, "I fear that it is not complete, but that is what I know, hall by hall."

"I still do not think that this will help us," Aragorn handed the book to Corgan, who swept it up and began reading with gusto.

"So many elvish words," He said, his vaguely deep voice sighing, "I cannot understand how it takes so little time to write these letters. I, myself, have tried and failed to write an entire sentence in under four minutes."

"It is a skill that must be cultivated in humans, though dwarves have a much tougher time than most," Aragorn responded, thinking of Gimli, trying to write a single letter. He gave up after many tries.

There was a knock at the door, and three guards walked in, with their guide.

"My lord! The elves have given us permission to use the archery range," One man, an archer, was excited, "May we hold a competition of sorts?"

"A competition, no, but I believe that we do need practice," Aragorn looked at Legolas, "Will the prince join us?"

He nodded slightly.

The archery range was rimmed partially by trees, and then an open-air shelter stood by one side. Aragorn and his men waited for the signal to release their first arrows. When it came, the targets held tightly against the speeding missiles.

While they shot, only Aragorn, Legolas, and two of the king's escorts got bulls-eyes. After emptying their quivers, the first group yielded their positions to the next group and proceeded to retrieve their arrows.

"All bulls-eyes! Amazing!" Corgan looked at Legolas' target.

"Not very," Aragorn had two of the eight outside the center, "If you had seen him fight in the battle of Helm's Deep, or Moria, you would believe this to be easy for him."

"You did quite well for a bard," Legolas complimented Corgan as they walked back with their arrows, "Three out of eight is hard to get even from that range."

"Thank you," Corgan beamed and handed his arrows off to the man who was taking his place. Since most of their group had gone through the first time, only three more men stood at the line. Two elves took the targets at the far end.

Legolas slipped away quietly. It was surprising how fast time seemed to pass when he spent it with the humans. It was past midday, and he was supposed to meet Adunólae at dawn…

Legolas made his way through the trees, heading for the garden. Surely, she would be there…

He entered through the far entrance. He could see an elven woman sitting quietly on one of the marble benches, toying with an old trowel.

"Adunólae?" He approached quietly from behind. She spun around and stood, wrapping her arms around him in a quick hug.

"I missed you this morning," Her strange brownish green eyes twinkled with mischief, "Then I heard about your friends coming, and about the dwarf…"

Legolas held her shoulders, then pulled her in for a gentle, long-lasting hug, "They want me to go with them, to try to save Gimli. But I do not know if I should. My father forbids it, but I feel like I owe it to Aragorn to at least try."

"Laegolas," She used his slightly different Sindarin name, "If you go, I will wait for you. If you stay, I would feel as if I held you back from what you needed to do."

"What should I do?" He looked into her eyes again.

"Go," She smiled, "And look back when you reach the large tree."

Legolas touched her cheek, gently tracing the high cheekbones. She smiled and leaned forward, brushing her lips against his. He caught her cheek in his hand and kissed her gently.

"I shall stay here," She smiled and pulled away, "But you must return to me, else I follow."

Legolas took her hands in his, clasping them tightly, "Adunólae, this you must promise me. Never shall you follow me into the dark of Moria, never! If you have ever held our love dear, you must promise never to step into that accursed place."

She was slightly taken aback by his vehemence, but she nodded, "The sun, even now, wanes in the sky. I will gather my strength and see you off at the great tree."

Legolas leaned in and gave her one last kiss before he released her hands and left her standing alone in the garden. He slipped out of the far gate, returning to the archery range.

There, he found the elves giving Aragorn's escort a few good lessons in archery, but Aragorn himself was nowhere to be seen. Corgan told him that he had returned to the home, to prepare their belongings for their trek tomorrow.

Legolas found Aragorn studying the map-book intently, trying to find places where Gimli may have been held. The elf stood by the door silently until the king turned and motioned him in.

"I tried to reason with your father, but he is as stubborn as the dwarves themselves," Aragorn growled, "What will you do?"

"I will go, but I wish that I did not have to go against my father's wishes to do so," Legolas sighed and leaned against the wall, "This is a hard decision for me."

"Aye, I know, for I have seen the lovely Adunólae," Aragorn's eyes twinkled.

"That is not a joking matter," Legolas chuckled, "She keeps me as her own, but I have the same freedoms as I always had. I only wish that she were stronger with weapons. Then she could accompany me."

"But would you really let her come?" Aragorn closed the book and stood, facing Legolas, "In truth, would you?"

"Would you let Arwen?" Legolas shot back.

"No, I would not," Aragorn shook his head, "As you would not."

Outside, Thranduil's sharp hearing caught the conversation as he walked through the halls in search of his son. He growled in anger and spun, heading to his throne room to summon the captain of the guard.

Night fell, and Legolas awoke from his dream-trance. The room was dark, but there was someone in the room with him, someone who was not supposed to be there…

"Peace, Legolas! It is I," Adunólae hissed, shoving his saddlebags into his chest, "Hurry! Your father knows of your plans! You must leave now!"

"What of the others?" Legolas pulled his traveling clothes on quickly, quietly.

"They have already left the castle grounds," Once he stood up to pull his traveler tunic on over his shirt, she caught him off guard and kissed him quickly, "Hurry, for you do not have enough time!"

Legolas kept dressing until he was clothed and ready to go. His bow and quiver, along with his long-knives, were strapped to his back. Adunólae ducked outside, disappearing into the dimly lit halls. The elven prince caught the barest glimpse of a sheer green nightgown as she slipped through the door.

He ran quickly and silently through the halls. His father must seriously want him to stay. There were guards at every corner, and all of them probably had orders to detain him.

The elven prince avoided their eyes until he made it to the stables. His horse, Randir, was saddled and ready. As he led the steed into the moonlight, there was a loud cry from a guard.

Legolas mounted as fast as he could and rode into a gallop. There was no time for secrecy, for if he was to escape, he must ride hard to the great tree that stood south of his home.

He saw Aragorn and the others far in the distance. They all began to ride ahead once they spotted him.

Just as Legolas was about to overtake them, three elven guards broke into the space between them. Randir reared back and nearly bucked the elven prince off his back. The horse plowed through the three guards.

The guards rode after him, their cries raising the alarm. Another guard, one that Legolas knew to be Cioneth and a friend, rode out of the darkness to his right and drove his horse into Randir's side.

Legolas lost his grip on the horse's reigns and hit the ground hard. He was on his feet in an instant, running through the trees, dodging for all he was worth. _I cannot be commanded as a young child! I must leave!_

Cioneth dismounted and ran after him, as the three other guards joined the foot-chase as well. The elves were all equally fast, and the prince's only advantage was his knowledge of the forest about them.

"Aragorn!" Legolas heard Corgan's voice long before he heard the bard's horse's hoof beats, "I see him!"

The bard was riding hard to get to the prince before the four guardsmen did. But he did not make it there in time. Cioneth caught Legolas' shoulder. Legolas pulled away, and spun to face him.

When he did this, he threw the guard off-balance. The elf fell forward, snatching the prince's ankles tightly. Legolas fell hard, and, instantly, the two guardsmen had caught his arms up.

The last guard pulled Cioneth to his feet. The elven guard spoke, "Legolas, my prince, I am sorry for what we must do. It is by your father's command."

"Release me!" Legolas commanded, "It is not my father's place to condemn a friend to death!"

Cioneth was silent, then he looked at the two guards that held the elven prince's wrists and arms tightly. "We must get him back to his father."

Legolas struggled against the two elves, but they, together, were much stronger than he was. A quick glance over his shoulder told him that Corgan and Aragorn were watching with expressions of loss.

Even as he struggled, there, in the strong grips of his friends-turned-captors, far away, in the depths of Moria, a black skinned sorcerer watched his predicament with sharp teeth that were revealed by a scornful sneer.

"I gave you a strict command!" Thranduil stormed angrily. His son was seated in a high-backed chair, flanked on both sides by guards, "I gave you orders to stay! Why did you disobey me?"

Legolas was quiet. He simply eyed the guards, looking for weakness, a chance…

"Answer me!"

"I found that it is not your place to condemn a life," He responded finally, "And that it should be my choice what I do with my life and health."

"You are my son! And as such, you shall obey my commands!" The king was enraged. The prince was also becoming angry, his cheeks becoming flushed. He jumped to his feet, with the guards grabbing his arms.

"That may have been acceptable two thousand years ago, but I am no longer a child as I once was! I have my own choices to make!" Legolas pulled against the guards' grip, "I will not allow you to treat me as you would a human baby!"

There came a swift movement that Legolas never thought that he would ever feel again. In less than a second, there was a vivid, burning pain that flashed across his face, spreading from his cheek to his eyes, then to the other side of his face. 

He had been slapped.

Thranduil straightened his robes, "You are acting as a child, so I shall treat you as a child. Your age is of no concern to me, as you are my son."

Legolas gasped from the pain, for his father's hit was fiercer than any orc club could ever be. His father waved a hand in dismissal, and the two guards led Legolas away.

His room seemed dark and dismal now. Shadows crept across the walls as the guards barred the windows closed with the gates that were built around them. Then the two elves disappeared outside, locking the door from the outside.

The first thing he did was smash his fists onto his desk in pure, unadulterated anger. _He is being overprotective! Never before has he acted in such a way! Is it because of what I have done, or of someone else, someone close to me…_

Thranduil slouched into his chair, alone in the large council room

Or so he thought…

"My lord," Adunólae stood behind his chair, sadness tingeing her voice, "He is no longer your son as you know him. He has his own life…"

Thranduil, angry and enraged, leapt out of his seat and spun to face the elven woman. His grip on her shoulders was painful at best.

"I had a vision of my son, trapped in the deadly grasp of a large, fiery eyed creature," The king locked his gaze with hers. Adunólae began to become frightened, "He was dead, or very close to it."

"W-what?" She whispered.

"Blood ran from his mouth, and a tentacle of the creature was forced down his throat," Thranduil's eyes became misty, "The king of Gondor was there, as were the dwarves and the humans. They could do nothing as the _thing killed my son."_

"Dreams are unreliable, my lord," Adunólae spoke shakily, "What if what you saw…you cannot be sure!"

Thranduil pushed her away angrily, "I will hear no more of you! Go! Leave me in peace! And go not to my son!"

Adunólae was confused and frightened. She didn't know what to think. All she could do was run out of the room, past two very surprised guards, then push past two attendants, just to dash, down the halls and into the darkest of night…

"Legolas! Oh, dear Legolas!" Adunólae cried softly, grasping the vines of the window-gates. She hoped that she was not too late, that he had not already escaped, "Please!"

"Adunólae?" The elven prince stood from where he was quietly sulking, "Why…?"

"Ask no questions," She reached through the gate to touch his forearm, "Your father has told me his reasons for keeping you here!"

He scowled, "He is being overprotective."

"No, far from it!" She grasped tightly, "He saw, in a dream, a great monster, one that would be your most certain doom. I cannot allow you to fall to a fate such as that. Please do not make me."

"My friend is dying," Legolas insisted.

"He could be dead already," Adunólae pulled away from him, when his eyes flared in anger, "You would strike me, then? For speaking what could be, and what may?"

"Hold!" He snapped. He didn't even want to think of that possibility.

"Then you have the same temper as your father, for his hand also has felt my cheek," She stepped back, frightened and confused, "I thought that I could release you from this prison, but I do not believe that it would be—"

A strong arm wrapped around her, pinning her arms to her sides. A gentle hand fell over her mouth.

"Shh, my lady, I mean you no harm," Aragorn whispered in her ear, "Legolas, are you ready?"

"Aye," His voice was less than excited, and the king wondered why. 

"Then let us go. The way has been cleared," While Corgan climbed carefully over the wall with a lock pick satchel, Adunólae's eyes widened. She began to struggle wildly. Legolas edgily slipped through the opened gate to calm her.

"Adunólae, please, quiet," His hand replaced Aragorn's, "We have far to travel without my father riding close behind."

He took his hand away carefully.

"I cannot bear to see you die," A tear touched the fiery redness of the right side of her face, where a vivid handprint stood. Aragorn released her when he felt the tension in her body leave, but she cried out loudly, "Guards! Guards! _Teli__!"_

Legolas spun to slam the window-gate shut as the guards from outside the room approached. Aragorn leapt forward to slam a quarterstaff into the vines, blocking it. His foot caught the back of Adunólae's.

With a cry, she fell back, over the short railing of the balcony. Legolas dove to the edge, straining to see if she was all right.

He could see nothing.

"We must away!" Aragorn fairly had to drag Legolas from the balcony, "Come!"

Adunólae broke from the blackness and disappeared into the gardens. Legolas sighed with relief when he saw that she was all right, then turned and followed the king of Gondor.

Their company rode long and hard for many days. There was little to slow them down once they left the southern ranges of Mirkwood. Miles upon miles of prairie land stood before them and passed quickly.

The walls of Moria, and the rebuilt West Gate, were guarded by heavily armed dwarves, three in number. At least, those that their group could see outside. They all were dressed in heavy armor and had suspicious looks on their faces, as if seeing an elf entering their land was an evil omen.

Legolas watched the dwarves as they rode to the Gate and dismounted. He was still disturbed about what Adunólae had said about a monster being his doom. 

"You are the General's Companions?" A large dwarf with two double-sided axes slung on his back, under an enormous shield, walked up to them stiffly, "Yes?"

"Aye, we are," Aragorn said, "And this is my escort, some of the finest humans in all of Middle-earth. They are coming with me."

"Keep your eye on the elf," the dwarf growled, "He is unwelcome here."

"Might I inquire your name?" Aragorn asked politely. If it had been his Ranger days, he would have threatened the dwarf with his life.

"Bofir II, after my father," He looked at them both suspiciously as their Dwarven guides began to arrive at the West Gate behind him, "But you will call me by my first name only."

Legolas watched the diminutive being with some mirth. The little person seemed to be trying to act gruff, but, in reality, this young dwarf was legend as being one of the most hospitable dwarves in the whole of the world.

_But perhaps elves are not considered worthy of hospitality, Just his insinuating thought made him slightly angry. _

"Let us go," Bofir turned towards the door that was perfectly rebuilt. The moon-silver and Durin's Door stood as if nothing evil had ever happened in that calm place. Legolas shivered slightly as he saw the darkness inside.

One of the dwarves was going to laugh and jab at him when the thunderous pounding of hooves caught their attention. They turned to see a rather large horse approach, carrying a slightly thinner than normal person on his back.

"Adunólae!" Legolas' jaw dropped. Was this woman going to dog his steps the whole way?

"I am here only to give you this," She said, roughly thrusting a package into his chest, "It is a prayer, and a weapon. Nothing more."

Her face was emotionless as she remounted her horse, leaving a small thread of her dress caught on the sharp rocks. She and her horse rode off, back to Mirkwood. Legolas, stunned, opened the package.

Inside were a long, thin dagger and a quiver of arrows. Surprised by these mundane gifts, Legolas merely slipped them onto the quiver on his back and followed Aragorn to the doorway to hell…


	2. Poisons and Hallucinations

Moria was just as threatening as Legolas remembered it. Without hesitation, he, Aragorn, Corgan, and the rest of Aragorn's escort entered the now brightly-lit hall of Moria. Bofir grumbled as he passed Legolas, saying something about elves and their meddling.  
  
The elf just sighed.  
  
Bofir stood with Aragorn and they spoke in unnecessarily low voices. Legolas heard what they spoke about, and none of it included him. A young Dwarven boy walked up to him and handed him a canteen, while other young warriors passed out the water containers.  
  
Legolas smelled his. A sweet aroma wafted up. The young warrior looked hopefully, so Legolas tasted it and smiled, "Thank you very much."  
  
The young warrior laughed and slipped away, leaving Legolas to his thoughts.  
  
"Legolas?" Corgan approached him quietly, "This place…there are many evils here, true?"  
  
"You have no idea," Legolas shook his head.  
  
They were quiet until Aragorn stood straight and looked at them.  
  
"Bofir will lead us to the Hall where Gimli and his group were taken from," Aragorn narrowed his eyes, "It is close to the depths where the Tomb of Balin rests. Strangely enough, the one survivor claims to have seen Balin's ghost."  
  
"A Wight?" Corgan ventured a guess, "Possibly a Shade?"  
  
"Possibly," Aragorn repeated the bard's words absentmindedly, "Possibly…"  
  
"Aragorn, I would that we hurried," Legolas said quietly, his arms wrapped tightly around his chest, holding his bow close, as if for protection, "I feel the fading presence of my friend. I fear that Gimli has not much time…"  
  
"Humph," Bofir snorted and chuckled, his eyes filled with a racist hate, "You elves know nothing of the mettle of dwarves."  
  
"I know that stupid folk should close their mouths, ere they find themselves without a tongue," Legolas shot back without thinking, "The dwarves of the Misty Mountain were not so ignorant long ago."  
  
Bofir's eyes narrowed.  
  
"Please!" Aragorn snapped, "Legolas, come. We go now."  
  
"You need a guide!" Bofir snorted, "You need me."  
  
"No," Legolas allowed himself a smirk, "We do not. I guide these through the depths that you have spent so much time in. I know crevices that you did not dream exist."  
  
Bofir looked ready to explode when the elf took a torch from the wall and began to lead them. He was even more enraged when the elf led them down the right tunnel.  
  
I will kill that elf, He thought, No matter if he is friend to Lord Gimli or not…  
  
The band passed many a working dwarf, those that cleaned, spoke, or performed other tasks. Corgan had never before seen so many of them in one place before, and he was drinking in their work songs like a sponge.  
  
"You are enjoying this?" One of the guards asked.  
  
"Their music, it is rough and callous, but it holds an enchanting beat," Corgan nodded, "It cannot match the beauty of elven singing, however…"  
  
Legolas heard him, but did not make any sign that he had done so. Instead, he led them through the halls that they had passed through not that long ago. It had not been long enough…  
  
Aragorn watched the elves with suspicious eyes. So many seemed all to willing to attack the fair elf, though they knew nothing about him. They seemed more dangerous than the Balrog…  
  
They came to a large door that was newly build, and heavily fortified. Here was where ten dwarves guarded the entrance to Dwarrowdelf.  
  
"We seek passage through," Aragorn spoke up, stepping around Legolas, "We are the friends of Gimli, Lord of the Glittering Caves."  
  
"We know who you are, King Elessar," One of the lead dwarves growled, "And we know who this one is."  
  
He pointed accusingly at Legolas, who merely stood, waiting for the dwarf to elaborate. The dwarf obliged them willingly, his tone accusing, "I was there at the Battle of the Five Armies, Prince of Elves. I know what you did there."  
  
Aragorn looked back at Legolas, who had stiffened suddenly.  
  
"We did not come to banter, we came here to save the life of a friend," The king of Gondor nodded his head in respect, "With your permission, may we pass?"  
  
"We will go as well," The dwarf said simply, his white streaked beard waving with each word, "I will not allow that murderer, that traitor, that demon-spawn of the old world, no, I will not allow him to enter without my eye upon him."  
  
"You insult a prince, dwarf, I would hold your tongue," Corgan snapped angrily.  
  
"Elf-lover!" The old dwarf spat, "Tis a pity none of the younger dream of the strength and glory of the dwarves! Instead, they fantasize about a murderous race of twig-legs!"  
  
Aragorn held a slightly red Corgan back, "Bard, this is not your place."  
  
The old dwarf spat and motioned for his warriors to open the small, yet heavy doors. The group of humans went through first. When Legolas followed, after surrendering the torch to a guard, the dwarf handed the torch back, flame first.  
  
Legolas was relieved that he had been able to grab the handle before it touched the ground.  
  
"Ah, clumsy elf!" The oldest chuckled.  
  
"If I may ask, what your name, master dwarf, is as I can remember who it was that causes me such embarrassment," Legolas returned quietly.  
  
"I am Nori, the same of Thorin Oakenshield and Company," The famous and rich dwarf had obviously kept in singularly good shape, unlike a few of his companions, "I fought long and hard for many a year under the command of my dear friend Balin, til his death did he meet."  
  
Legolas squeezed his eyes closed against the enormous size of the room. He did not want to remember the Battle, nor what had occurred there.  
  
"Come, let us find our friend."  
  
Aragorn led the small group, walking beside Nori, holding a torch in his upraised hand. Legolas walked slowly, his hands encumbered slightly by the torch he also wielded, until one of the guards took it, offering to carry it.  
  
Corgan noticed that he seemed out of touch with the occurrences around him. Twice had dwarves bumped into him purposely and twice he had not noticed. The bard wanted to ask what was wrong, but he held back.  
  
"Oh my…" Corgan's hand flew to his mouth as they approached an area where a fight had obviously occurred. There were stripped bones, still white, littering the ground, along with blackened, charred bones, and armor.  
  
"This is where Lord Gimli was taken from," Nori groused angrily, "The creature rose out of the pits and attacked mercilessly. It had tentacles that were thicker around than I am."  
  
Legolas started at that. What had Adunólae said…?  
  
"What do you hear, Legolas? What do you see and smell?" Aragorn roused him from his thoughts.  
  
Legolas concentrated for a few moments, surveying the devastation. Then he shook his head, "It was kin to the Watcher, of this I am sure. I would think that, if we wish to rescue our friend, we should pursue down the pits."  
  
"Stupid elf! We have tried that already!" Nori laughed, his arms crossed, "There is a great chasm, and none can cross it."  
  
Aragorn glared at the dwarf, and barely noticed Legolas approaching one of the three pits that Nori had gestured to. The elven prince examined the depths quickly, then stepped down, landing on a small ledge.  
  
"There is a chasm here, there is no other side to it," He called back after sliding down to the edge of the gaping hole, "The beast must have continued downward further."  
  
"Then that is where we will go," Aragorn set his jaw and the whole group converged on the pit. The dwarves were becoming obviously more wary, and their axes rested lightly in their hands.  
  
"We have lost many a good warrior into that pit," Nori growled, "What makes you think that you will survive?"  
  
Aragorn did not respond. Instead, he followed Legolas into the blackness.  
  
Legolas felt much unease. This was not a place that he had been to before. Why was he here? He should have known that they would not be on the old trail of the Fellowship.  
  
After he finished securing a rope to a solid rock, Aragorn and Corgan took a hold of it, to ensure their friend's safety.  
  
It would take long for them to transfer everyone down the rope, if there was an end to be found. Ten dwarves, seven human guards, Corgan, Aragorn, then Legolas as well…  
  
The elf held the rope behind his back and leaned back. He was able to walk down the steep walls of the pit by feeding the rope behind him.  
  
Soon, the light of the torches became faint, so much that even he, as an elf, had to strain to see the rock wall in front of him. Then, his foot met nothing but air…  
  
Legolas fell forward, hitting the wall with his hands. He knew those above him felt the jerk, but he calmed and called to them, "I am all right. There is a cave of some sort…"  
  
"Be careful!" Corgan called down.  
  
Legolas was almost to the end of the rope. He slipped to the end and swung into the cave. The fact that there was even a floor surprised him, but the closeness really stunned him.  
  
He landed hard and rolled.  
  
"Legolas!"  
  
"I am unhurt!" He called back. Their voices sounded so far away, "I cannot see, for there is not enough light. Toss down a torch for me!"  
  
One fell towards him and he had to lean out to catch it. He waited for the flame to flare again, then turned back to the darkness of the cave.  
  
"Legolas, do not enter until you have someone to watch your back," Aragorn called, but the elf paid him no heed. He stooped and picked up Gimli's helmet…  
  
…and looked up to see a slightly quivering tentacle shudder.  
  
His eyes widened in surprise as he now smelled the scent of rotting flesh. Why did I not smell that before? There is something terribly wrong here…  
  
He blinked…  
  
…and the tentacle was gone.  
  
Legolas was alone in the cave, holding a helmet sized rock in his hand. He dropped it from nerveless fingers.  
  
"There is something wrong here…"  
  
"Legolas!"  
  
"I am fine! Wait! I will signal if it is safe!" Legolas sighed, and then spoke to himself, "Aragorn, you are far too worried. You will not lose Gimli, nor I. You worry far too much…"  
  
Now he began to smell a strange scent, one that reminded him of the strange drink that that dwarf had offered him earlier…  
  
He blinked, and a skeleton leapt out of a corner, stunning him. The bony hands still had blood staining them, and they reached for his throat. Legolas slashed at the attacker with his long-knives.  
  
They went right through the bony ribcage. It was a hallucination.  
  
"Why am I seeing things?" He muttered to himself and blinked the apparition away, "That dwarf poisoned me, which is why, Legolas, you fool. Your trust in Gimli led you too far into complacency…"  
  
"Legolas!" Aragorn sounded insistent.  
  
"Yes, it is safe! But send only the best, for I do not know how long we should stay!" Legolas waited. Strangely enough, the first being down was Nori.  
  
"Ah, elf, it seems that we wait together until the others arrive," The dwarf screwed up his face, "I smell the scent of a drug. Do you choose now to indulge in body-killing habits?"  
  
Legolas shook his head and handed him the canteen, "One of your own warriors poisoned this water. It was not I…"  
  
"How dare you accuse one of my warriors!" Nori snapped and grabbed the water skin from him. Suspiciously, he smelled it.  
  
"Do you see now?"  
  
"It is the caeleb-cened, the sick-sight plant," The Dwarven lord, for once, looked at the elf in pity, "This is not a simple narcotic. It takes many days to wear off, no mater what race you may be."  
  
"Is there a quicker antidote than time?" Legolas watched the rope move more wildly as the next warrior came closer to the cave itself, "I cannot be afflicted by this now. Gimli needs my eyes…"  
  
Nori looked at the elf as he sighed and leaned against the cavern wall. He seemed to come to grips with the fact that this elf was a dwarf-friend. Hesitantly, the older dwarf, who had been imprisoned by Legolas' father, moved to the elf's side.  
  
Nori rested his hand on Legolas' arm, for he could not reach to his shoulder, "We will save my friend's son, elf. You need not worry about your abilities."  
  
The elf shook his head, "Does the hate between our peoples run so deep that one of your own would poison me when I am trying to save one of their lords? Why is this so? Pray tell, Master Nori, for I do not know myself…"  
  
Legolas sighed an looked up as Aragorn swung into the room, followed closely by Corgan, two dwarves, and two more human warriors. Aragorn noticed the water skin in Nori's hand and the slight glassiness in Legolas' eyes.  
  
Legolas blinked.  
  
A tentacle grew out of the wall, and reached for Aragorn's throat. The elf stepped forward with a small sigh of alarm, then Nori's grip on his forearm held him back as he blinked away the image.  
  
"Tis an illusion, elf," The Dwarven lord grumbled, "You shall be seeing more of them until a few days has passed."  
  
"What has happened, Legolas?" Aragorn was suspicious.  
  
"One of the dwarves has poisoned him," Nori looked angry, "One of our own…with the caeleb-cened plant. Illusions are all he will see for the coming day or two, depending on the dose."  
  
"Who would do this?" Aragorn demanded angrily, "We need him to save Gimli! Does the hate run so deep? A curse upon the anger of dwarves!"  
  
"Aragorn, still yourself!"  
  
Legolas' explosion stunned them all.  
  
"I will not—" He stumbled forward, "—allow another fight—what is happening to me?"  
  
He fell to one knee, his arms wrapped around his chest in pain. Corgan was the first to his side, his eyes wide, "My Lord…King Aragorn…the caeleb- cened plant is very deadly to elves! It causes not simple illusions."  
  
"Tell me."  
  
"An elf can consume it once. If he survives, he becomes immune to it for the rest of his life," Corgan looked very concerned, "But it may kill him. But there is no remedy, only time."  
  
"We find Gimli," Legolas groaned, standing, "And we must hurry, for I would not fall under another illusion again."  
  
Aragorn, though he was seized with a great concern, nodded. They rested for a few minutes, then began to slowly make their way into the depths of the tunnel. Legolas was to stay close to Aragorn, but he eventually, unwittingly, drifted back to walk beside Corgan.  
  
"Here, I have an herb that may lessen the effects," The bard handed him a small vial of a greenish liquid, "But it may cause you to lose an edge off your sight."  
  
"That is something I cannot risk," Legolas tried to hand it back, but the bard shook his head.  
  
"Use it when this nightmare is over," The young man smiled slightly.  
  
They continued to walk through the damp black stone, pausing every few hours. The tunnel led deeper and deeper into the ground, and soon, they had lost their sense of depth. The elven prince was feeling quite claustrophobic.  
  
Finally, after several uncounted hours under the pressing stones, Aragorn called for them to rest as if it were the night. As they set up a 'cold camp,' Legolas fingered the long, thin dagger that Adunólae gave him…  
  
He took it out of the sheath and looked at it. It was simply engraved with the elvish words for 'When all others have failed.' It was very simple, almost crude, for the leather wrapping around the handle had even become loose.  
  
They all settled down, save for a dwarf and human guard to stand first watch. He absentmindedly unwrapped the leather. Under it was the finely wrought silver handle of a true elven blade.  
  
Why would she hide it?  
  
As he rewrapped the handle, he noticed a black shadow. It began to creep towards his foot, and then recoiled. It seemed to avoid his outstretched foot…  
  
With a quick snap of his wrist, he sent Adunólae's dagger into the shadow. He blinked and the shadow disappeared, leaving the ground marred by a blade score. He shook his head as he realized that it was another illusion.  
  
That night, he stood against seven different hallucinations, each more frightening than the one before. The last had been a disembodied Balrog head, nearly driving him to cry out.  
  
"Come, Legolas, get them up," Aragorn's voice broke through the sleeping haze, "Are you all right?"  
  
"Aye, my friend, I have lived through the night," He said quietly.  
  
Then Aragorn shimmered and waved, eventually falling from sight. Confused, Legolas stood, Adunólae's dagger in his hand. He moved quickly to where Aragorn had stood only seconds ago.  
  
"Aragorn!" He whispered urgently, trying to find his friend. He tentatively ducked into a nearby passage, hoping to find him there.  
  
Aragorn slept peacefully on his bedroll.  
  
Legolas stepped into a large cavernous room. There was a shallow pit of water in the center, and the surface rippled with life.  
  
Another illusion…just like Aragorn was, He sighed and shook his head. Then his eye caught a familiar form.  
  
Gimli sagged lifelessly against the gummy strands that held him to the wall of the cavern. His helmet laid at his feet, and the skeletons of his comrades, picked clean and bleached white, hung near him.  
  
No, not an illusion…it cannot be a hallucination…  
  
As he reached out, his hand passed through a strip of the gelatinous gum.  
  
He flinched away, angry and afraid at the same time, These illusions have overtaken my mind! I cannot even see true images anymore!  
  
In anger, he lunged forward and reached for Gimli's shoulder…  
  
His hands felt real, warm, living flesh.  
  
The dwarf's eyes flickered open, "Legolas…what are you…"  
  
Legolas was so overjoyed that he almost cried. He tried to get a hold of the jelly bands that held his friend in place, but his elven hands passed through them. All he got for his work was a thin layer of slime on his fingers.  
  
"I cannot free you!" He said, his entire being calm, "My hands pass through these bindings."  
  
"You do not…believe in them…" Gimli sighed, his strength returning slowly, though his face was pale beneath his beard, "They are…all too real…to me…"  
  
Legolas looked around for some way to free his friend. The long thin dagger in his hand should have worked…  
  
But it was no where to be found!  
  
Almost frantic inside, but utterly calm and composed on the outside, Legolas searched the cavern, barely noticing that there seemed to be a strange gray light coming from some where.  
  
And the movement in the water did not catch his attention either.  
  
Finally, he found the dagger and turned back to Gimli. His friend was not there!  
  
He saw the dwarf being dragged towards the water. With fire in his eyes, he dove forward and slashed down on the tentacle.  
  
An eerie wail shattered the silence of the cave. More tentacles exploded out of the water, slapping at them both. Legolas kept cutting at the appendage that had captured his friend.  
  
It finally snapped.  
  
"Gimli! Come!" Legolas hauled his friend to his feet, thankful that he was not hallucinating, "Run for the tunnel! Turn to the left and find Aragorn and the others!"  
  
A tentacle, wet and slimy, wrapped around his waist. It squeezed suddenly, and the elf's hand sprang open unbidden, dropping the dagger to the floor.  
  
Gimli disappeared out of the cave.  
  
Legolas was dragged towards the water, his hands being scraped raw by his attempts at saving himself. Finally he had found a good handhold, but, nevertheless, He was jarred loose.  
  
The cold, thick water closed over his head. As he struggled, a small tentacle touched his face, tentatively, as if curious.  
  
Oh, Elenath, give me the strength I need to survive! He thought as he began to drown. The tentacle that had touched his cheek now probed towards his mouth. He clenched his teeth against it.  
  
The tentacle around his waist squeezed.  
  
He cried out involuntarily, his mouth open in an underwater scream.  
  
The small tentacle did not wait. It thrust its way into his mouth, down his windpipe. He felt it split into two and split into each of his lungs…  
  
The elven prince tried to cry out against the pain, but the mass in his mouth prevented anything more than water-muffled sobs.  
  
Then he realized that he could breathe… 


	3. Exile!

His lungs heaved and a mass of swallowed water exploded out to rejoin the lake. Yet air reached his lungs, and he slowly opened his eyes, wanting to know what kind of creature had taken him…

He blinked frantically, trying to clear his mind of the illusion that he beheld. But, no, it was not to be…

The air in his lungs, the creature before him, and the tentacles that held him tightly, they were all too real…

_Who are you? What are you?_

The voice in his mind stunned him. It sounded like a gruff man's voice, one who was frightened and angry, _You are not like the short creatures. _

Legolas tried to speak back, but his mouth was blocked.

_Answer me! The voice sounded frantic._

The elven prince struggled in his grip.

_You cannot speak underwater…He must have realized, __Your mind is clouded with a drug…but it is not your own doing, is it? They hate you, like they hate me. The short creatures…_

Legolas finally pulled one hand free and tried to get a hold on the tentacle in his mouth. Pain shot through his chest as the creature began to pull out of his lungs. Once it was out, he gasped for air and got only a mouthful of water.

The tentacles that held him exploded from the water, holding him above the lake like a drowned puppet.

"Who…are you?" The elven prince gasped for air and clutched at the binds that held him.

_You speak strangely, a language I do not understand, The creature's voice quivered, __Why do you not speak to me? _

Legolas realized what he meant. If this creature could speak in another's mind, he wanted him to think what he wished to say. His eyes closed as he concentrated, trying to put what he wanted into thoughts.

_You are one of the Firstborn, those that roamed the world above when I was banished down here, The voice became angry, __Like the short people, you feared me, as you should have._

Legolas struggled in the ever crushing grip. The dagger that Adunólae had given him shone from where it was embedded in one of the roaming tentacles. The elven prince fell limp, hoping the creature would loosen its hold.

Suddenly, he exploded forward, pushing himself out of the creature's crushing grasp. Tentacles flailed for him, as did the one that he was aiming for. The slim bladed dagger slipped from the slimy flesh and flew across the room as Legolas fell.

One powerful muscle smashed into his side.

He flew through the air, then hit the wall of the cavern with such force that his breath emptied from his lungs. When he landed on the floor, bruised and stiff, the dagger lay only a few feet away.

It was just out of his reach.

He sagged, laying his head on the cold ground. He was so tired…

When he raised his head, he saw the bloodied bodies of his friends lying on the ground. Their blood ran across the floor in torrents…

Corgan was the only one still alive, but the light in his eyes was fading quickly as the gash in his throat drained his life. Aragorn was lying face down, his eyes closed, with his face pure white…

"_NO!"_

Legolas tried to stand. He could not let his friends die…

Then he blinked and the vision faded, but the sounds of Aragorn and the others approaching became so much louder. The elven prince snatched the dagger from the ground as he stumbled to his feet. He cried in a loud voice, "Aragorn! Stay! Do not enter here!"

Aragorn ran in, the others following him closely.

The last thing Legolas saw before he collapsed to the cave floor was a tentacle going for Corgan's throat…

_"Legolas, you are a fool. It was your fault that your friends all died!" Thranduil shook his head, "I am very disappointed in you. It was your ignorance that caused the death of the King of Gondor."_

_"It was not my fault!" Legolas insisted, dressed in a long white robe, like his father, "Gimli would have died had I not saved him."_

_"So you trade the life of one friend for another?" The Elf-king turned to look at his son. Instead of Thranduil's face, it was the face of the cave creature._

_"You are a fool," The creature hissed, "You allowed yourself to be poisoned. You allowed the other dwarves to be killed. You allowed Aragorn to die, all because you are a sniveling, whining parasite."_

_"No…" The elf prince whispered._

_The creature laughed, his roar rippling the air around them. Instantly, the pure white surroundings morphed into a grim repetition of the cave…_

_"I will not give in to your deception!" Legolas cried._

_And his world shattered._

"Legolas!" Hands were shaking him, "It is the plant! It is affecting him worse than I thought! Come, Prince Legolas, awaken! We must run!"

Legolas groaned. His eyes slowly slid open, and he saw the wet face of the bard above him. Groaning, he turned onto his side and coughed water and blood from his lungs, his entire body heaving with the effort.

"He is alive!" Corgan reached down and pulled the elf to his feet. Another pair of human hands grasped Legolas' shoulder and arm as he was half-drug from the cave.

There was a loud, otherworldly cry from the cave behind them. The elf refused to look, for there were memories and demons there that he did not want to face ever again.

Corgan and Aragorn laid him in the hall outside. The king of Gondor leaned over his and wiped the blood and water from his cheek.

"I—I am all right…" Legolas coughed again. There was more water, still tinted pink with blood, "This is not a—illusion, is it?"

"No, you are alive, elf," Nori spoke from a few feet away, where he and the other dwarves tended to Gimli, who was awake and grumbling about over-protectiveness.

"You survived the _caeleb-cened plant," Corgan laughed and clapped him on the shoulder, "Congratulations."_

"There is still the matter of getting out of here, and the matter of which dwarf it was that poisoned him in the first place," Aragorn grumbled, "This feuding has gone on long enough!"

Nori snapped, "What is done is done!"

"You are protecting him?" Corgan's eyes widened.

"He is a dwarf! I will protect the dwarves over the Elf!" The old dwarf snarled, his hand going to his axe. Legolas sat up quickly, his strength already returning, his lungs still aching.

"He tried to kill a Prince of Elves!" Aragorn went for his sword.

"Stop this," Legolas cried out, and then fell back with a groan of pain as his head throbbed mightily, "Ugh…"

Nori yelled, "It was his own stupid fault!"

"You will regret those words!" The king of Gondor leapt forward.

Corgan was the one that received the blow of the man's attack…

The human bard stumbled backward and fell to his rear, his cloak torn from shoulder to waist. Dark navy blue and golden armor was revealed to the torchlight as he breathed heavily from the blow.

"What are you?" Aragorn snapped, sheathing his sword.

"I am…whew…Corgan, of the Noble Guard…" He stripped the remnants of the cloak off, "We are a small band of warriors sworn to protect the rulers of Middle-Earth. When I heard that you planned to enter Moria a second time, I followed you."

"Where were you during the War of the Ring?" Gimli slapped a dwarf's healing hands away, "You have done enough damage. Leave me be!"

"We were cut to ribbons by Sauron's first attack out of Mordor," Corgan narrowed his eyes, "There are few of us left, but we still fulfill our duties."

"Then, to protect Legolas, you must arrest the dwarf that poisoned Legolas!" 

"Let us get out of here!" Corgan snapped, his hands going to his head, "Else we all end up dead! This matter is between Legolas and the dwarf who poisoned him, not you, not Nori, not I."

Aragorn and Nori exchanged hateful looks, and then continued on getting Gimli and Legolas to the shaft they descended. 

The hours stretched on…

Legolas gained strength while Gimli fell into a deep sleep of healing. The trip up the shaft so many hours later was arduous for the elven prince, but he managed to climb up nonetheless.

He was the first to the top, and Bofir met him there. It was strange that he was alone…

"Bofir, I need blankets to send down to the others," He said, "We have recovered Gimli, and he lives."

"Ah, but you will not," Bofir lunged forward, his knife flashing.

Legolas spun to avoid the blade, but it clipped his arm as the dwarf charged. He used that same arm to catch the dwarf as he began to topple forward over the edge of the pit, "Foolish dwarf!"

He tossed him back. Bofir's unprotected head connected solidly with a column, but the thick-skulled being leaped forward again, hate in his eyes. Weakened as he was, Legolas could not stand long against such a ferocious attack.

"Legolas!"

Aragorn and Corgan leapt onto the surface just as the elf heaved his attacker over the edge of the crevice…

…But held onto him tightly, unwilling to even let his would-be murderer die. Aragorn helped him pull the dwarf back to the flat ground. Corgan called to the human warriors that scaled the rope to help him bind the deadly dwarf.

"Legolas, you and I must go for help."

Legolas clutched his arm tightly, stopping the small amount of blood that seeped between his fingers. Then, he and Aragorn headed towards the gateway that seemed to stand so very far away…

_Ten Days Later…_

Legolas stepped past the stunned guards as if there was nothing different about him. But he had changed. The second trip to Moria had almost shattered his grip on reality, but he had managed to keep his hold on the real world.

His father was conversing with another elf about some matter of importance, Legolas did not know what. Instead, he stood, dressed in his traveling tunic, waiting for his father to notice him standing at the back of his council hall.

Thranduil did see him, but ignored him. He continued his conversation, eventually turning his back on his son.

Legolas waited.

The elf that Thranduil had been talking with bowed slightly and left, his business with the King finished. He passed by the prince with an inquisitive glance, and then retreated from the room, leaving father and son alone with two guards.

"What are you doing here?" Thranduil said bluntly, his back still to his son.

"I have finished my mission, and I have returned alive," The elven prince said quietly, "My friends are all alive. None were lost in the dark of Moria."

"You are wrong, my son was lost there," The elven king looked into the fireplace where a blaze roared, "I have pronounced the offspring of my blood to be dead. You are an imposter."

"What? Father, have you gone mad?" Legolas was taken aback, and took a step forward, "I stand before you, alive and well! I have lost none of my light, of this I assure you!"

"My son died the moment he refused to obey me!" Thranduil thundered, "You will leave Mirkwood! If I see your face here again, I will imprison you! To this I swear!"

Legolas was aghast. He stepped forward again, until he had reached his father's side, "This is madness! I have done no wrong to hurt you, father! Is it possible that you disown me over a matter that is over and done with?"

"Guards!" Thranduil yelled and stepped away from the elf that had been his son. The two guards surged forward and took Legolas by the arms. The elven prince did not struggle.

Thranduil met his son's eyes.

"Take this elf and his belongings to the edge of Mirkwood," He commanded, his gaze still locked with his son's, "Be sure he does not enter the forest again."

"Father!" Legolas cried. The guards began pulling him towards the door, but he struggled, "I should have died from the _caeleb-cened plant! Would have been a happier death than exile from my own home!"_

His pleads fell on deaf ears as he was taken from the room.


	4. A New Home?

Legolas pulled his hood from his head as he approached the palace at Minas Tirith. It had been a long two month's journey from his former home, as he had ridden the long routes. No doubt Aragorn would have received his letter…

The former Elven prince wore a dark green tunic, green shirt and black-green pants, clothing quite different from what he had worn before his exile. His hands seemed much stronger than they had before as well.

His horse, Randir, had died days after leaving Mirkwood for the last time. The steed had obviously understood what had happened, and was not able to cope with the pain of being separated from his home.

Now Legolas rode a strong, black, human-bred horse that had white markings on his face. The snow white mane and tail stood as reminders of his former steed…

The guards looked at him strangely as one ran to announce him. They did not imagine him to look like this, the elven prince who was legendary among archers. They expected him to be…more regal.

Aragorn was gone; they told him once the guard returned. He was attending to fragile business along the southern border. But Arwen was here.

He nodded, affirming that he would like to see her…

"Legolas!" Arwen, her beauty untarnished even though she was now mortal, approached him with a worried look, "Aragorn has not yet received your letter, for long has he been gone."

"When will he return?" Legolas asked shortly.

"In a day at most," She stepped forward and touched his shoulder, "You will stay here, in the palace, for your letter told me that you have been traveling for a long time."

"Thank you, my lady," Legolas still had to consciously remind himself to bow. He was a prince no longer…

"Legolas, you need not bow to me," She shook her head, "We are still equals, for you are still a prince, of royal blood and breeding."

Legolas shook his head, "The feuding between the elves and dwarves has cost me my family, my home, all because we cannot learn to forgive and forget!"

Arwen rested her hands on his arms, "Do not become angry, Legolas. I must admit, I do not know you as I wish I did, I do not know your father's mind, for we have met only through my husband. But I know that you are an honorable being."

Legolas sighed and looked away.

"And I know that you gave all that up for the sake of your friend, though he was a dwarf," She moved her hands to his shoulders, "And that is more noble and princely than any inherited title could ever be."

The former prince smiled slightly and met her eyes with his, "Thank you, Lady Arwen, your words have brought my spirit from deep within darkness."

She smiled and led him beyond the throne room, into the real palace, where people lived and worked. It was here that Legolas felt as if he had truly fallen from favor with his father.

"Here is a room for you," She opened to door into a room whose walls were covered with windows, allowing light to stream in, unhindered, "I hope you feel at home here."

Legolas looked around the room and a tear slid down his cheek.

Arwen approached his hand gently wiped the tear away. The Elven prince's face was emotionless, yet he cried.

"What troubles you?" She asked.

"I fear that I will never see my father again," He said, stoically, "I fear that I have been exiled for no reason. Arwen…I never thought this would happen…"

"No one expects their life to change in a moment's time," She shook her head, "Take rest, my friend. I will come for you when it is time to eat."

"I will wait here," Once she left, Legolas sat on the edge of the bed. His hands moved towards the strap that held his quiver, bow, and long knives and slowly slipped it off his shoulder.

His father had disowned him.

He was in exile now, cut off from his friends. Silinde, an old friend that had accompanied him to Rivendell before, had ridden with him for a full month, refusing to leave him. But Legolas had finally convinced him to return to Mirkwood, after promising to go to Gondor.

This was a nightmare come true. He had not told anyone but Aragorn about it, for, he fear that if Gimli learned of it, he would take the blame onto himself when it was Legolas' fault in the first place…

Glorfindel, Elven Lord who dwelled temporarily in Rivendell, had also ridden to speak with him as he passed beyond the valley of Imladris. He, too, was a dear friend. Others had met him on his journey. Haldir and his brothers, Orophin and Rúmil…

He was still thinking about those he had been forced to leave behind when a picture of Adunólae exploded in his mind. He buried his face in his hands.

"I am so sorry," He whispered, tears coming more readily now, "If only I had seen what was coming…"

Arwen opened the door to the room and stepped in quickly. He knelt by his side and wrapped her arms around his quaking shoulders. She held him tightly, whispering reassurances to him.

There was another presence in the room. 

It was Aragorn.

Arwen looked at him, almost scolding, "He cries a dangerous tear, Aragorn. Please wait…"

Instead of leaving, Aragorn knelt before the softly weeping elven prince.

"Legolas, I know that this is not your fault," He whispered to his friend, "Do not cry for the faults of others. Your father is only that, a father. He could not see all ends in the fog of anger."

Legolas wiped his eyes and Arwen released him, "I dishonored him, and that is something I promised never to do."

"He dishonored himself," Arwen said, "By exiling and disowning you, he proves that he does not comprehend what he cannot see. Like the invisible binds of friendship. He cannot understand that."

Legolas nodded and blinked the tears from his eyes. Suddenly, he was all alone in the room.

_A dream…? Or something else…_

A knock on the door surprised him, and he jumped. He calmed his breathing just enough to say, 'Come' in a partially composed manner. Arwen stepped in, seemingly unruffled by his tear-stained face, as if she had expected it.

"Aragorn has returned, and it is time for dinner," She smiled at him, "If you would like to change, I made sure that you had some clothing ready for you once you arrived."

Legolas thanked her, still confused. But, after she left, he moved to the wardrobe and found a clean outfit, fit for a prince…

He felt guilty as he changed, as if he was imposing on them. But Arwen's face when he finally stepped into the dining room showed him that she wanted him to be there.

Aragorn walked in a second after Legolas had, and, without a word, embraced his friend, "I have just finished reading your letter. It tears me to hear of this news…"

"I only hope that it will not fall on Gimli's ears," Legolas returned the embrace, then they both pulled away from each other, "For he would take it to be his fault."

"Unfortunately, that is true," Aragorn turned to Arwen and kissed her lightly, "Let us speak of this while we eat, for there is not much time before I must be off again. Legolas, I go to the East, to Rohan. Would you accompany me?"

"Aye, I will," Legolas answered without hesitation.

"Now tell me of what has happened since leaving Mirkwood," Aragorn smoothly avoided the word 'exiled,' "I know that Glorfindel himself met you as you rode. He cares for you as one who knows your pain."

"Yes, Lord Glorfindel met me. As I rode past Lothlórien, Haldir and his brothers met me as well…"

"Lothlórien? Your path should not have taken you past there," Arwen interrupted.

"I—" Legolas was quite taken aback. True, he had hesitated to come to Gondor, but he had to honor his vow to Silinde, "It took Silinde almost a month to corner me into coming here…I—kept avoiding the border as much as I could…"

"But why? You are among friend, true friends, here," Aragorn led them all to the modestly set table that stood on a balcony. Legolas could see the whole of the gardens from the edge, "You seem ashamed!"

"Aragorn!" Arwen snapped.

"It is true," The dark haired king stepped towards the elf that leaned on the railing, "Tell me the truth, elf, though you cannot lie. Are you ashamed of us, of me, a human, taking you in and showing you friendship?"

"Yes…I was…"

Legolas' whisper was barely audible, but it seemed as if the birds ceased their singing for a moment to allow his murmur to be heard, "But no more…"

Aragorn and Arwen waited with baited breath for him to continue. Two serving girls that held trays approached the balcony's opening and stopped, then quickly disappeared back into the castle after seeing Legolas.

"I may be immortal, I may be an elf, but my spirit, I fear, is not completely elven any longer…" Legolas raised the heel of his palm to his face, "I—I ask your forgiveness, Aragorn, Arwen…"

"You have done us no wrong," Arwen rested her gentle hand on his back, "Tis you that has been hurt."

"I know not what to do…" The former elven prince sighed.

"Become my second, a position like a prince, and you shall have a rightful place nonetheless," Aragorn stood behind his wife, "Else you wish to be captain of my guard. Captain Néran is old…"

"And I am not?" Legolas' eyes twinkled with a long-forgotten gleam.

Aragorn chuckled, then began to laugh. He clapped the elf on the back, "Legolas, I would be honored if you would become my captain of the guard."

"I cannot say, for I could not stand being trapped inside stone walls…"

"Then roam! Scout the forests, the fields, the marshes!" The human king spread his arms grandly, "Go off and do not return for days! But do return! For you have a home now."

There was a silence.

Legolas thought long and hard about Aragorn's proposition. Could he ever possibly have a true home again? Was this freedom too much to hope for? 

He began to chuckle.

Arwen looked at Aragorn.

"It honors me to accept, King Elessar," Legolas smiled, actually smiled, "On one condition…"

"Anything! Name it," Aragorn leaned forward.

"That you shall not allow your dinner to grow cold," He shook his head, "Such a waste you humans are…"

Arwen's jaw dropped a few centimeters until she realized that he was jesting. She patted him lightly on the back as Aragorn laughed heartily. With a glint of mischievousness in her eyes, she raised her hand and ruffled Legolas' hair.

He laughed and shied away, smoothing his hair down. Aragorn gestured to the table.

"Let us comply with the prince's demand, else I lose a captain!"

Only Arwen saw the sudden flash of pain at Aragorn's use of the word 'prince,' but it faded quickly and the three friends ate in peace.


End file.
